Warning: blood and gore, depression, thoughts of suicide
Otto V
The world was a blanket of white. Pure, simple white. Like the colour of the heavens perhaps, or maybe the gleam of the sun. But he knew different. It was the colour of snow. It was his colour, it always had been. From the very moment he had emerged into the world; whining, mewling and pawing helplessly at the air. Only a sparse layer of white had covered him back then, but it was always his colour. His siblings had been darker; shades of grey and black that had lightened as they grew. But not him. Not Winter.
His first memories were only snippets of sound, flashes of colour, and whiffs of strange scents. In those first few hazy days, Winter could barely tell the difference between day and night; waking and sleeping. Everything had been shrouded in a veil of misty white. His eyes had been completely closed, save for a tiny sliver of colour through which he viewed the world. Of his siblings he was the first to see. The first to come out of their mother's womb, the first to stand, the first to walk, the first to explore. He was always the first.
They were five pups in all; shades of black, grey and white. Two brothers and three sisters born in the spring, the season of life and birth. Winter had loved his siblings dearly, and remembered their faces as well as his own. There had been his timid little sister, dark as a shadow; his brave light-grey sister, kind and caring; his lean grey brother, fierce and loyal; and his smallest sister, sweet and playful with a coat of burnished silver.
They would cuddle together for warmth on cold nights and romp around the den with each other during the day. The pups would play-fight when they got bored and lie down in a heap afterwards when they were all tired. Winter had been the largest of his siblings and easily overpowered them during their vigorous bouts of roughhousing. He was always sure to never harm his siblings, during play-fights or otherwise. Winter's brother had been known to nip and scratch whenever he wanted something that he didn't have. Whether it was a spot to nurse off their mother or a new bone to play with, Winter's brother had always been a wild pup.
These vicious habits had eventually been abolished by their mother after she had found out. A few harsh nips and growls had been enough to permanently end his unacceptable behaviour. Winter had always respected and looked up to his mother. She was a sleek silvery-grey Direwolf, the alpha female of their pack he would later learn. She had been stern when it was called for, but otherwise there had never been doubts of her pure and unconditional love. Winter's mother had been the largest influence on his early life. Ever since their birth, she had always been there to feed and nurture the pups.
In fact, Winter's mother had scarcely left the den at all during those first few weeks. Indeed, she had been with the pups day and night, only leaving long enough to feed on kills made by the rest of the pack. Winter and his siblings had scarcely seen any other Direwolves during those first few stages of their lives. They might occasionally hear a bark here or a howl there, but otherwise made no contact with the other wolves of their pack. Early life had been nothing but fun and carefree days; rolling around with his brother and sisters, suckling on sweet warm milk, and dozing in a sea of soft warm fur. Winter would always look back on those days fondly, with maybe just a bit of pity for himself.
Things had changed after his first real taste of meat. Winter and his siblings had just barely turned two weeks old. They had developed rows of small but sharp teeth lining their mouths, although none of them were quite sure what they were for.
Up until his mother's return, it had been a day just like any other. The pups had been roughhousing in the den; rolling, jumping and pouncing on one another with reckless abandon. Needless to say, such vigorous activity required large amounts of energy, and the pups had been absolutely exhausted afterwards. That was when their mother returned. She had been known to leave the den longer and more frequently as the pups grew, and by now they were used to her periodic absences. Yet they still crowded around her all the same, each vying for a spot to nurse upon her sweet, warm milk. Instead, Winter's mother had growled and forced them all away. That was when he had noticed the strange red blob dangling from between her jaws.
It was a choice portion of Megaloceros from a fresh kill; a rare treat that only a handful of their pack could indulge in. Winter had sniffed at it suspiciously as he slowly approached, ready to dart away at any moment. His mother dropped it on the floor with a wet plop, startling the curious pup. Winter had jumped away in fright, growling at the sudden movement. He paused apprehensively, needle sharp teeth bared in a snarl. The meat didn't budge. Winter approached again, more slowly this time. He froze within biting distance, sizing up this strange foe. Nothing happened so he pressed his nose against the wet blob and sniffed inquisitively.
Winter was met by a rich, mouthwatering scent. His stomach rumbled in anticipation and he subconsciously growled in delight. He could sense his siblings approaching from behind, drawn in by curiosity. Winter gave the strange new object a few more whiffs before his tongue flicked out and brushed against the slick red surface. It tasted sweet. Far sweeter than his mother's milk. Winter gave it a cautious nip and tore off a shred with his new teeth. They cut through the soft red pulp easily, as if built for the sole purpose of slicing through flesh. Winter tossed his head back and devoured the morsel.
It tasted better than anything in the world. The pup snarled in pure ecstasy, overjoyed by his new discovery. Winter immediately tore into the red blob again, his teeth carving out an even bigger chunk. His siblings closed in, emboldened by his delighted reaction. Winter's light-grey sister was the first to join in, always the bravest of the bunch. She stalked over confidently and took a spot next to him. His sister ripped off a generous portion with a smooth tug of her head. The meat was gone in no time at all. Winter's brother pounced and tore off a chunk with a savage wrench, shaking his head from side to side as he liberated the prize. His dark-haired sister slid in timidly, quiet as a shadow. She nipped at the meat and gently tugged a sliver off.
Every single one of the pups was eagerly tearing away at the meat. Every pup save for Winter's smallest sister. She whined and scampered over to their mother, who was proudly watching from the side. The silver pup rubbed against the large Direwolf, begging to be fed. She closed in towards a teat, only for their mother to snarl and back away. Winter's sister tried once more, approaching more slowly this time. The alpha female bared her teeth and turned away. The pup whined and rolled over, pawing helplessly at the air. Winter was surprised. His mother had never been able to refuse his smallest sister before.
She was a sweet and well-mannered pup who never caused any trouble. Winter enjoyed her company the most out of all his siblings, and sought her presence on a regular basis. She was the most playful of the litter, and seemed to be a fluffy ball of pure energy. Winter's sister had the exact same silver coat as their mother, who seemed to favour her over the other pups. When the two silver Direwolves curled up together it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
Winter barked at his sister, who only remained sprawled on the dusty floor, still downcast after the refusal. He bounded over cheerfully with a chunk of meat in his mouth. Winter nudged his sister gently, trying to prompt a response. She whined and rolled over, turning her back against him. Winter growled softly and stalked over to the other side, pressing his face against hers. He dropped the meat on the floor and gave it a gentle shove toward the silver pup.
She perked up at the scent, if only slightly. Winter gave the morsel another gentle nudge and seemed to finally gain his sister's attention. She sniffed at the meat curiously and rose to her feet. The silver pup circled the red blob a few times before pouncing and rolling to a stop, the meat firmly pinned beneath her paws. She gave it a suspicious lick and immediately barked in delight. Winter wagged his tail with excitement as his sister reacted to the delicious meat. She closed her teeth around the slick red morsel and swallowed with a satisfied growl. The silver pup looked to Winter for more.
He scampered back over to the rapidly disappearing slab of meat and ripped off a large chunk for them to share. Winter dragged his prize back to the corner and shared it with his sister. She rubbed against him affectionately before returning to the meal.
Winter didn't hesitate jumping in. After all, he wasn't going to let his sister have all the fun.
The snowy white pup growled anxiously as he stalked down the length of gloomy tunnel. Winter's mother was sniffing out the way ahead while his siblings followed in a loose half circle behind. The other pups picked their way through slowly and cautiously, making their disapproval known through nervous growls. Winter could share in their sentiment. He had come to love the den, their own private refuge from the world, but now they were leaving the safety of its musky darkness. His mother had corralled them all together and guided them towards the only exit, a gentle ramp that sloped upwards into the unknown. Winter wanted nothing more than to stay in the den forever, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. The pups were venturing into the world, whether they wanted to or not.
They were just over three weeks old now, significantly larger and stronger than just mere days ago. Winter had grown rapidly after his first taste of meat. He was nearly twice the size of his silver sister and easily larger than the others. Their mother had patiently overseen every phase of their growth and now seemed eager to show them the world. She scuffled about in the darkness, turning occasionally to make sure they were still following. Winter padded along with an equal mix of terror and excitement.
He was curious to know what the outside world held, but frightened at the prospect of leaving the den. Winter paused abruptly in the middle of the tunnel. There was a soft blue glow emanating from up ahead. He shook himself from the daze and picked up the pace, bounding ahead curiously. The tunnel was getting colder as they progressed. Not unbearable, but still far cooler than what Winter was normally used to. There was a strange noise too; a thin, piercing cry that swirled and shrieked outside. It was almost like the howls of the far-off Direwolves that Winter occasionally heard from the den, though more ghostly. More otherworldly.
They were nearing the exit now. Winter's mother blocked most of his view, but he could still see specks of blue and white swirling up ahead. The strange howl grew louder and stronger as they progressed. Winter growled in alarm as his mother disappeared around the corner. He scampered after the silver alpha frantically, afraid that he would lose her forever. The other pups followed his lead and darted down the tunnel, hard on his trail. There was a sudden flash of white and then Winter was free.
A strong gust of wind bowled into the white pup, nearly knocking him flat on the ground. Winter grit his teeth and stood firm while the wind tugged at his fur, howling like some ghostly wolf. It was a queer feeling, being pushed by something that wasn't there. Winter squinted into the glaring light. It took his eyes a moment to adjust for the sudden change of young pup backed away in surprise when his vision finally cleared.
He was bombarded with a sea of colour. Towering sentinels that boasted every shade of green. A bright blue sky laced with wispy golden clouds. A rugged cliff-face composed of greys, blacks and blues. Shifting cobalt water that snaked along a muddy brown riverbank. Rusty orange needles that littered the forest floor. And the fluffy white substance that blanketed everywhere in between.
His paws sank into something cold yet comforting. It was bright white, just like his fur. Snow. Winter's terror vanished in an instant, replaced by delirious joy as he leapt and rolled, scattering the fluffy white to the winds. He dove into snowbanks and kicked up clouds of powdery white dust. Winter was at home. His siblings cautiously emerged from the dark tunnel, heads swiveling as they took everything in. The silver alpha female perched on a nearby rock, watching with motherly approval. Winter yipped and barked, inviting the other pups to play with him. No sooner did he issue the challenge than he heard a deep growl from behind.
Winter spun around, teeth bared in a snarl. He was met by a large female Direwolf with a coat of cloudy grey fur. The white pup leapt away in fright, backing toward the safety of his mother. The silver alpha stalked up behind the pup and gently nudged him forward with her snout. Winter froze. The strange wolf loomed over him like a shaggy grey cloud. Then, surprisingly, she bowed. The grey Direwolf pressed her ears against her head as she scraped down, bringing herself level with Winter. He blinked in surprise. The other wolf rose again to face his mother and Winter took the opportunity to escape.
He bounded over to his siblings who were watching the exchange with rigid fascination. The strange wolf was large and old. She was nearly a head taller than their mother, and had a shaggy grey coat laced with sharp white streaks, marks that reflected her age. Yet despite her size, the old she-wolf flattened her ears, lowered her head, and tucked her tail between her legs. Winter's mother padded forward until the two Direwolves were nearly face to face. The strange wolf crouched down low to gently nip the silver alpha's lower jaw. Winter's mother inclined her head in approval. She then arched her neck and bit the top of the other wolf's nose. The silver alpha turned around and stalked back to the pups, the old grey Direwolf following close behind.
Winter tilted his head curiously. The exchange seemed to have been an assertion of dominance. His mother was very clearly the higher ranking wolf, as evident through her confident actions. The cloudy grey Direwolf, although larger and older, was obviously the subordinate. Winter noted the interchange with fascination in the case that he should ever have to perform a similar ritual. A quick sideways glance revealed that his siblings were doing likewise. A soft growl stirred Winter from his thoughts.
His mother stood before the pups and inclined her head toward the newcomer. Winter and his siblings gave the old she-wolf a few curious sniffs to get acquainted. The cloudy grey Direwolf did likewise and growled in approval. Winter was about to try imitating the earlier exchange when the meeting was abruptly interrupted by a chorus of howls and barks.
The two grown Direwolves perked up at the sound, heads swivelling across the river that ran parallel to the den. Winter followed their gaze to see a shifting mass of fur on the other bank; musky greys, dark blacks, muddy browns and just a splash of snowy white, like his own. It was the pack returning. For all of his life, Winter had only known five faces apart from his own. Now he was being blasted with a wealth of new information. New sights, new protocols, new customs, and new faces. Winter was nearly overwhelmed by the fresh wave of knowledge.
His mother barked, loud and sharp. A long ululating howl answered from the other side. It was joined by a second, then a third. Soon the entire pack was baying at the heavens. Winter's mother and the old grey Direwolf threw their heads back and howled in response. Winter tried to imitate the gesture, but his voice came out too sharp and thin. His cry was easily drowned out in the noise. The Direwolf pack howled until the entire world was filled with their cries.
With a single glance, Winter could discern that there had to be a dozen at the least, not counting any of the Direwolves on their side of the river. A few distinctive wolves stood out from the rest; a tall dark-grey Direwolf that carried himself with an air of confidence; a muddy brown wolf that slunk around the rear of the pack, her head held low to the ground; two golden twins that padded along side by side; a pitch black she-wolf, larger than all the females and most of the males; a shaggy and malnourished slate-grey Direwolf that prowled at the back, tail tucked between his legs. And the most distinguishable of all; a massive white Direwolf that presided at the head of the pack, tail raised high. He had the exact same snowy coat as Winter himself, and seemed to simply radiate authority. The other wolves held their heads low before him, and never dared to cross his path.
The huge white Direwolf had something tucked in his mouth, meat, Winter realized. The great white wolf began to accelerate as he neared the riverbank, paws digging into the frozen mud for traction. He kept bounding until the very edge. With a harsh shove against the riverbank, the huge Direwolf vaulted off the ground toward their side of the river. Winter watched in awe as the huge wolf nearly cleared the river in a single bound, splashing to a stop in the shallows. He then padded onto their bank, pristine white fur slick with water.
Winter's mother bounded over to meet the massive Direwolf. She crouched down low and lovingly bit his lower jaw. What surprised Winter was that instead of like before, where the higher ranking wolf would bite the subordinate's nose, the huge white Direwolf simply nuzzled his mother affectionately. This could only mean one thing, the pup realized. This huge white Direwolf was his father.
Winter was both a little intimidated and impressed by the great white Direwolf. He scampered behind his mother and peeked at his father cautiously. The huge wolf broke away from the greeting as he noticed the pup. He stalked over curiously, the meat still dangling from between his jaws. Winter froze as the huge wolf inspected him. The pup stood perfectly, absolutely still. His father's eyes gleamed with amusement at the sight. The huge wolf growled in a friendly manner, low and soft. Winter managed to choke out a high-pitched yap in response. His father dropped the meat on the floor and gave it an inviting shove with his snout.
Winter approached slowly. He glanced up at his father, who was studying the pup curiously, waiting to see what he would do next. Winter darted forward and took ahold of the meat in his jaws. He shook his head viciously, freeing a large chunk for himself. The white pup backed up quickly and dropped his piece on the frozen ground. His father gave a stout bark and Winter saw something like approval in his eyes. Upon seeing this, the other pups rushed in and began tearing at the meat, trying to claim pieces for themselves. Winter's silver sister crept behind him meekly. He tore off a chunk from his own piece and pushed it to her. She rubbed against him affectionately with a delighted yip. Winter was about to set into his meal when he noticed the other Direwolves.
Some had tried to leap across the river like his father, although with little success. Most were lucky if they could get halfway across and paddle the rest of the way. Some barely even cleared the shallows of the opposite bank at all. Winter saw a Direwolf that had almost been able to replicate his father perfectly. It was the same dark grey male that he had noticed earlier, the tall confident one. Winter watched as the tall Direwolf padded over to his father. He crouched down and flattened his ears, making himself seem much smaller than before. Winter's father nipped his subordinate on the nose. The grey wolf stayed crouched until the superior one inclined his head, granting permission to rise.
More of the Direwolves were now returning from the opposite bank. Many trudged ashore dripping wet, completely soaked from paddling across the icy river. Winter saw the golden twins scamper up the shore; first to his father, then the tall grey male. The pair crouched down low in both occasions, ears tucked against their heads and tails between their legs. The twins were followed by many more wolves. Every single one would pay tribute, first to Winter's father and then the tall grey Direwolf by his side. Last of all the wolves came the malnourished slate-grey male, soaking wet fur pressed close to his skinny frame.
He pulled up before Winter's father and scraped low to the frozen ground, every limb pressed close to his body. He then made a few rounds across the pack, visiting every other Direwolf in turn. Each time he would bow and scrape, ears pressed against his head and tail tucked between his legs. Winter could easily tell this was the lowest wolf in their pack, the omega male. He had also figured out where some of the other Direwolves sat in the hierarchy.
The tall grey wolf ranked higher than every single male except for Winter's father. He was the beta male. Similarly, the old cloudy grey she-wolf was ranked higher than every other female save for Winter's mother. The beta female, Winter inferred. There were countless mid-ranking wolves, and Winter was still unsure of their positions. Many of the middle wolves would bow before others, yet get bowed to by other wolves still. It was a confusing affair, and the Winter couldn't keep track of everything just yet.
If there was one good quality the omega wolves shared, it was that Winter could tell their positions easily. The slate-grey male and muddy brown female always carried themselves with downcast postures. They would slink about the area, bowing before every single other wolf. Winter was pretty sure that even he, a three-week old pup, was higher ranking than either of them. However, the two omega wolves weren't the only ones whose positions were easy to discern.
On the opposite side of the hierarchy were his parents. His father was the alpha male. If it hadn't been clear enough upon first glance, Winter was now completely sure. Every single wolf in the pack bowed before his father. None of them so much as stood without his consent, and none dared to cross his path. Winter's father was the ultimate authority, and commanded the pack through both fear and respect. His mother was the alpha female, yet no less impressive. Similarly to his father, Winter's mother ruled over the pack, albeit only the female half.
The white pup returned from his thoughts to the meal before him. Many of the Direwolves were now just milling about; play-fighting, socializing, relaxing or feeding on leftovers that had been brought home from the kill. A few had sniffed at the pups curiously, but warning growls from the huge white alpha had sent them scurrying away with haste. Winter barely even noticed when the meat was all gone. He had been too immersed in watching the other wolves with the curiosity that only a young pup possessed. Winter wanted to soak up as much information as possible. Seeing so many fresh faces had added a whole new layer to his life.
Winter was shifted from his observations by an insistent tug. It was his mother looming above him, nudging him with her snout. Winter yapped and curled up again, only for his mother to repeat the motion. He grudgingly rose and padded over to the silver alpha. She rounded up his siblings and shepherded the pups back into the den, some more willing than others. Winter wanted nothing more than to stay outside and watch the other wolves, but his mother was unrelenting. One by one, the pups were forced back into the den.
Winter sulked around afterward, perking up with every distant bark or growl. Some of his siblings were just as eager to return outside, and the pups spent the rest of the day at play. It was just a matter of time, Winter knew. Their mother certainly couldn't keep them cooped up forever, and he would have many more chances to return outside later. Until then, Winter would just have to be content playing with his siblings.
Weeks flew by. As they grew, the pups ventured outside longer and more frequently until eventually, they left the den altogether. Winter slowly got acquainted with every member of the pack, from his mighty father to the cowardly omega. The tall grey beta wolf was a kind and caring stepfather to the pups when their real father was away. He would often supervise Winter and his siblings while they played, ensuring none them ended up in harm's way. The golden male was often the cheerful instigator of play, always mischievous and entertaining. He enjoyed leading the pups on short expeditions into the wilderness, where everything was always exciting
His twin was the polar opposite; a calm and collected she-wolf that would observe everything from the sidelines. She wasn't any less adventurous though, and the golden female would regularly join the pups while they explored the wilderness. The old beta female was of a grandmotherly sort. She would watch over the pups with aged but alert eyes. If there was trouble nearby, she would usually be the first to know. The beta wasn't one for play, yet she was known to occasionally let the pups romp around on her large frame. She seemed to enjoy their company well enough, and Winter saw the old she-wolf as a second mother.
His real mother was easily their most frequent guardian. Along with their father, the two alpha Direwolves spent the most time with the pups. Winter's mother was often more kind and caring, gently guiding Winter and his siblings through life. Their father was more easygoing and playful, but only around the pups. It was a side of the great white alpha that Winter rarely saw, and one that he never showed to any of their packmates.
Some of the other Direwolves barely socialized with the pups at all. The two omegas never got anywhere close to Winter or his siblings for fear of incurring his father's wrath. They were boring wolves and he was better off without their company, Winter decided. The omegas would spend most of their time curled up under an unimposing tree or rock, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. The trick didn't work as often as they liked, and the two lowly Direwolves were regularly harassed by the rest of the pack.
Out of all the new wolves, Winter's siblings were still his favourite playmates. One of the first things he had discovered was that there weren't any other pups. Only the alpha male and female were allowed to mate, resulting in only a single litter every year. There were still other wolves close to their age though. Indeed, the massive pitch black she-wolf had been the offspring of a previous litter. She had chosen to stay with the pack instead of finding a new one, much to the disapproval of their parents. The large black wolf was kind and protective of her younger siblings. Winter found the resemblance between his quiet sister and the older one strangely uncanny.
The pack varied greatly in backgrounds and upbringings. Most of the wolves were from other packs, although like his older sister, a small amount had been from previous litters. Their pack was by far the largest as well, Winter discovered. During some days they could hear other wolves far off in the distance. The two packs would then take turns howling, a way to determine their respective numbers. The wolves would call out one by one, from alpha to omega, highest to lowest. Winter's pack had nineteen Direwolves in total, whereas other packs only had five or six.
The abnormal size of their group meant more food to be consumed, and more land to acquire that food. Their territory had to be patrolled and defended from regular outside excursions; ferocious packs of Hyaenodon, lone Sabercats, vicious Purlovia, ravenous Daeodon and even the occasional Direbear. Winter had seen all sorts of beasts invade their territory, and every single time they had been driven away.
Their territory was a vast stretch of land that followed the river as it meandered between mountains, hills, plains and forests. With such a large amount of land, there were almost always wolves out patrolling. Their warning calls could be heard from surprisingly far away. Whenever a beast was caught infringing on their turf, the pack rushed out to meet them in force. Winter and his siblings were often brought along to learn. They would observe from the sidelines under the watchful eye of a trusted elder, never taking part in the skirmishes.
Winter had been three months old when he saw a Direwolf die for the first time. . . closely followed by a second, then a third. The pack had traveled to the outskirts of their territory in response to a Direbear incursion. It had been all the way up in the far north where the ground was always covered by snow. The offending beast had been absolutely enormous; a mountain of muscle and shaggy brown fur, a jaw like a boulder, and heavy limbs as thick as trees. Winter trembled whenever he recalled the titan. On all fours, the Direbear stood thrice his father's height. Rearing up, it had towered above the alpha five times over.
Yet despite the beast's impressive physique, the pack hadn't backed down. Winter had watched with pride as Direwolves closed in from all sides, leaping, snarling and snapping. They twisted away whenever the titan lashed out, and danced back in wherever there was an opening. The wolves had used hit and run tactics; only staying close enough to slash or snap and then retreating before the bear could react. The boldest Direwolves had slashed at its face, trying to claw out the monster's eyes. Most had harried its flank with tooth and claw while others had clung to its great shaggy back.
The bear would soak up every wound easily. Blood stained its dark brown coat, yet Winter doubted the Direbear felt any pain. It seemed to have an endless supply of stamina; roaring, swiping, leaping, snapping and charging at Direwolves with reckless abandon. The pups watched as the pack got worn down, attacks coming slower and less often. It was in that moment that Winter had witnessed the first casualty.
A short, tawny brown Direwolf swerved away too slowly. The monster's paw slammed it against a snow bank and Winter heard a loud crack. The wolf lay dazed in the snow, either too wounded or too disoriented to flee. The bear was on it in an instant. A landslide of fur and flesh slammed down on the poor creature, dashing it against the ice-hard ground. Winter only saw a red pulp in the snow when the Direbear rolled away. The death of their comrade only bolstered the remaining wolves. Fur flashed as a sea of brown, black and grey careened into the living mountain. The bear shook its mighty frame, dislodging wolves and snow alike from its heavy fur coat.
The Direwolves retreated a few paces, forming a loose ring around the behemoth. Winter saw his father give the cry to attack and the pack swarmed the bear again. This time it was ready. The titan rushed forward to meet a light-grey Direwolf head-on, cavernous mouth gaping wide. The wolf was too slow to react. Heavy jaws snapped together with a sickening crunch and the headless body crashed into the ground, leaving a bright red streak in the snow.
The bear whirled and rammed another wolf into the ground, heavy paws ripping through fur and flesh. The wounded Direwolf howled in pain, stout and sharp. She tried to limp away, only to be mercilessly hammered down by the monstrous bear. The titan bellowed and savaged the unlucky wolf into a red smear. Blood spurted everywhere as the Direbear reared up on its hind legs and roared, issuing a challenge to all the survivors.
The remaining Direwolves darted away, wisely keeping their distance from the massive beast. Winter's father barked a few times and the pack changed tactics again. This time, only wolves from the flanks and rear would attack. When the bear turned to retaliate, the other side would rush forward.
This went on for some time, but the Direbear was eventually worn down. Blood spurted freely from its wounds beyond count, and there was a pronounced limp in the monster's gait. When it finally had enough, the massive beast roared one last time and fled. Some of the more courageous wolves trailed after it for a while, snapping at the monster's vast hindquarters for good measure. They eventually turned back and rejoined the exhausted pack for the long march home.
The repercussion of the battle was unacceptable. Three dead. The rest with injuries ranging from heavy gashes to broken bones. Only the pups and the old beta female, who had been watching them, walked away from the skirmish free of harm. The Direwolf pack must have made a droll spectacle that day; a procession of wounded beasts limping home, still unsure whether they had just won or lost.
The aftermath of the battle taught Winter a few important lessons. Never go out alone. Never stray far from the pack. Avoid Direbears at all costs. It took the pack a few months to fully recover. Winter had more opportunities to explore and learn during that slow phase of recuperation. The juvenile Direwolf always made sure to stay within a few minutes of the pack, should trouble ever arise. Regular patrols and scent markings meant the wolves would know if invaders were on their territory, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.
As soon as they noticed his absence, Winter's siblings would join him on the expeditions. They too were bored, with nothing better to do than lay around the camp. Exploration meant adventure, and adventure meant fun. The juvenile Direwolves would get into all sorts of mischief together. Winter recalled one instance when they had accidentally angered a Wooly Rhinoceros.
The Direwolves had been roughhousing in a seemingly empty field when all of a sudden, a massive lump of snow had risen from the ground. The shaggy beast had flared its nostrils and charged at the alarmed wolves, furious at having been disrupted from its slumber. Luckily, quick thinking and a dumb attacker had left the Wooly Rhinoceros splashing at the bottom of an ice-covered lake. Perhaps the beast would have lived if it had only noticed the ice cracking beneath its heavy bulk.
The short chase had left the young wolves exhilarated and eager for more. Needless to say, countless mishaps had followed. The juvenile Direwolves especially enjoyed startling herds of Megaloceros, or cornering lone Hyaenodons. Of course, none of them actually did any killing just yet. The young wolves were new and inexperienced. For all of their play-fighting, none had ever hunted or fought in a real battle. However, all of that changed when they were seven months old.
Their father had decided that Winter and his siblings were ready to join the hunt. The great white alpha led the group northwest, where the Megaloceros herds were known to graze. They were joined by a few experienced hunters, including the tall beta and the golden twins. Winter remembered every detail of his first hunt so clearly, both for the triumph and tragedy that followed.
At seven months old, the adolescent Direwolves were beginning to look like adults. Their jaws thickened into heavy, bone-crushing tools of destruction. Their bodies grew lean and muscular, all the better to chase down prey. Among other things, they had learned invaluable lessons from all the hunting trips they had been brought along for in the past. By all means, the young Direwolves looked ready to hunt. They had the bodies of grown hunters. . . yet the minds of playful pups. Looking back on the event, Winter wished his father had waited until they were a bit older to include them on the hunt.
The wolves had been prowling downwind of the herd as to remain undetected by their prey. They scanned the Megaloceros with predatory eyes, looking for weakness in the vast herd. Winter had seen the pack doing this many times before and knew exactly what to look out for. His eyes immediately locked onto a large greying buck with a slight limp in its gait. The beast was huge, although stiff from age and nearly blind in one eye. Winter growled and tossed his head, alerting the hunters of the old Megaloceros. The alpha followed his gaze, saw the buck, and snarled in approval to confirm their target. Winter swelled with pride at having discovered their quarry first.
The great white alpha growled, low and deep. The hunters peeled off to corner their prey. Winter darted to the right, padding behind huge boulders and heaps of stone to remain unseen. His silver sister followed closely, sticking to the shadows. The two Direwolves loped up far to the right, flanking the herd to cut off their escape. Winter heard an alarmed snort as a Megaloceros picked up their scent. A sharp howl pierced the air as Winter's father signaled for the attack to begin. Winter and his sister exploded from their cover, paws kicking up clouds of dust as they loped for the startled herd.
The two young wolves drove in from the side, scattering Megaloceros as they rushed toward their target. Winter saw the other hunters leap out of nowhere. The swift Direwolves closed in on the herd, converging toward the very centre where the old buck hobbled. Winter's brave sister was a grey streak as she darted ahead of the elderly Megaloceros, cutting off its escape. The startled buck leaped to the right, completely avoiding his sister's jaws. Luckily, there was always another wolf laying in wait. The grey beta blazed toward the Megaloceros, kicking up a shower of loose pebbles. He pounced with a snarl, claws outstretched toward its back.
The grey buck barely twisted out of the way in time, hooves digging into the rocky ground for purchase. The beta only clawed the air where it had been an instant before. Winter saw an opportunity and rushed to meet the stag head-on, his sister loping by his side. The white Direwolf kicked off the ground and sailed through the air, straight for the startled Megaloceros.
Now that he had a closer look, Winter could tell the buck had been injured not too long ago. Long scars adorned its great hairy back; white streaks on grey fur where claws had met flesh. Winter also noticed a set of deep bite marks on its hind leg, the one it was limping with. The old buck had a massive rack of faded yellow antlers, a few chipped or snapped from combat. Winter could tell the beast had lived a long life based on the enormous size of the spiky protrusion. All this he noticed in an instant. The world sped up again as Winter careened toward the fleeing beast.
There was a mighty crack, like the roar of thunder. Winter blinked as he crashed into the snow, disoriented by the lack of flesh beneath his claws. His head snapped up and saw the Megaloceros galloping away. Then he realized there was blood staining the snow. His own? Winter pushed himself off the icy ground and shook the powdery snow from his coat. His body ached from crashing into the floor, but he felt no pain apart from the collision. That was when he realized his sister's limp body on the ground.
She had been by his side a moment ago, leaping toward the old buck. Now the silver Direwolf was slumped in the snow, blood pooling around her head. Winter's head swam as he realized what had just happened. There was a pair of muddy hoof indentations in his sister's head. The white Direwolf threw back his head and howled in agony. He tried to lick the blood off, tried to reverse what had just happened. The sickly red liquid kept gushing out. There was too much blood, too much. . .
Winter exploded from the ground and bounded after the buck. One of the golden twins was already on its tail. Winter's paws touched the ground. Once, twice. He was side by side with the golden wolf, the male, he had time to comprehend. Winter rammed him aside and kept going without a backwards glance. The stag brayed as it galloped, taunting him, laughing at him. Winter snarled with fury. One bound. The grey buck was closer. Two bounds. Winter could almost tear its tail off. Three bounds. He could taste the fear coming off the fleeing beast.
Winter vaulted off the ground. The buck was thrice his height, an impossible distance for the young wolf. But Winter wouldn't let it get away. The monster would suffer for what it did. He put all his anger, all his grief into the lunge. There was a flash of grey and then he was on its back, clawing at fur and flesh. He slashed and hacked, taking all his anger out on the killer. Half a dozen bright red rivers opened under the fury of his claws. Winter dug into the bloody fur, teeth bared in a snarl. The beast twisted left and right, desperately trying to shake him off. The white Direwolf used the momentum to throw himself forward.
Winter closed his jaws around its thick neck and crunched down hard. There was a satisfying crack and the Megaloceros was suddenly falling. The huge grey body crashed into the frozen ground, steaming warm blood spurting from its wounds. The eyes were glazed over, one milky white, the other a dull brown. Winter didn't care. He mauled the corpse, ripping through fur and flesh and bone. He had just taken down a fully grown Megaloceros by himself. Winter could barely comprehend the turn of events, but the victory was hollow. He would trade a thousand first kills if it meant his sister's life.
Winter growled and turned around, the fury all but drained from him. He padded back to his sister's body where a loose circle of wolves had already formed. Winter saw the golden male, who he had knocked over in his haste. The white Direwolf stalked over apologetically, his head hung low. There was only the slightest pause before the golden wolf rubbed against him forgivingly. Winter managed to choke out an affectionate growl before turning back to his dead sister. His father stood at the front of the corpse, head hung low in respectful silence. The great white alpha raised his eyes to meet Winter's.
There was a sad gleam in those golden orbs. Winter hadn't even noticed it until now, but his father had the exact same eyes as him. Winter realized that this mournful look was one that his father had worn before. He suddenly remembered all those other litters that came before him, and wondered how many children his father had lost before. Too many, Winter guessed. In that instant, the mighty alpha didn't look large, strong or even remotely intimidating. He just looked sad.
Winter's father threw his head back and howled, low and deep. Winter joined in, followed by his siblings and the rest of the pack. He howled that night for the sister who would never take another breath. The sister who would never again curl up to sleep by his side, or bound through fresh snow-covered fields. The wolves mourned well into the night.
After the death of his sister, Winter thought he was safe from any more tragedies. The young Direwolf couldn't have been more wrong. Fortunately, they didn't happen right away. Winter had a few precious months of happiness before disaster struck again.
The pack moved north shortly after his sister's death. Seasons on the island could last for years, and Winter was fortunate to have been born in the spring. Only the older wolves of his pack had lived through the winter, and every single one shuddered at the thought of its return. Winter still couldn't understand their concern, but he knew one thing for certain. The long spring was finally over.
The land grew warmer as the ground thawed and the late spring snows melted. With the rising temperatures came strange new animals that returned from the south. Long-limbed Terror Birds, brightly feathered Raptors, ferocious Thylacoleo and huge Paraceratherium. The wolf pack's territory bordered the Redwoods, and with summer's arrival, the southern inhabitants were returning.
The Direwolves bid farewell to their spring residence and set off north for a colder home. Winter would always miss the den and the surrounding terrain where he had grown up, but the young wolf reminded himself that they would eventually return when the lands grew cold again. Until then, the journey north was an exciting new chapter in his life.
The pack set off together, fifteen Direwolves in all. Winter's father led the way from his customary position at the front of the column. The alpha knew exactly where to go, but the journey to their northern home still took a week. They would stop long enough to make a few kills, get some sleep and replenish their energy, then set out again at the crack of dawn. The pack mainly followed the river, but took shortcuts through forests and hills when it meandered too far off course. The Direwolves marked the way as they went, claiming territory as they had done before in the south.
Only a pitifully small stretch of land overlapped their summer and winter homes. Though the pack had lived here the previous summer, years had passed since then and new animals had moved to claim the abandoned territory. Luckily, many left without resistance at the sight of the massive pack, and the Direwolves had no trouble retaking their northern home. It was a trivial task, but essential to their survival.
Their southern territory had already been vast and difficult to retain. The northern territory was just as large, if not larger. Winter understood that it would have been nearly impossible for the pack to defend both lands at once, even with their abnormal numbers. In either case, the young Direwolf found the land-claiming enjoyable; a welcome reprieve from the world where Winter could temporarily forget his sorrow. He would mark stones, trees and shrubs with his scent, warning other beasts to stay away from their turf. Almost every Direwolf among them joined in, save for the two omegas who didn't have that right. Winter sometimes felt bad for the two, even if their mere presence dishonoured the pack.
The omegas would always eat last, long after the other wolves had abandoned the kill. If Winter stuck around long enough, he would always see them fighting off carrion birds just for a shred of sickly meat. A life of harassment and isolation had left the male sullen and distrustful, the female meek and insecure. Yet even if he pitied them, Winter knew the predicament was still partly their own fault. Direwolves could claw their way up the ranks if they worked hard enough, as he had learned.
Winter himself was already higher-ranking than his siblings and even some of the other grown Direwolves. His worth in battle had helped solidify a position somewhere near the middle of the hierarchy. Perhaps his father's title as alpha had contributed to the rank, but Winter knew his own initiative was the main factor. In any case, Winter was doing well for a Direwolf who still wasn't fully grown. He had even jumped ahead by a few positions recently, though by no means of his own.
Another benefit of the move north was a change in the dynamic of the pack. Winter knew that other animals had taken over the abandoned territory, but he hadn't expected one such group to be another pack of Direwolves. There were only six of them; a large tawny brown alpha male; a pale grey female, the only adult one; two smaller males, one black and the other grey; last of all, two sickly brown pups that looked half-starved, one male and the other female. Winter and his siblings had inspected them curiously, but found the pups of little interest. They were perhaps two months old, much younger than the adolescent Direwolves.
Upon their inspection, the brown alpha had growled in warning. The challenge was met by Winter's father, who padded over to meet the smaller Direwolf. Instead of wisely backing down, the brown alpha had snapped at his father's face; the universal challenge of dominance between wolves. Both packs backed away, forming a loose circle around the snarling pair. In a sudden flash of fur and teeth, the two alpha Direwolves were charging to meet head-on.
The fight was over before it began. Winter's father leapt an instant before the collision, long legs outstretched and sharp claws gleaming. The two Direwolves went down together, snapping and slashing as they rolled. There was a flash of white and suddenly, the brown alpha was pinned by Winter's father. Jaws snapped as the white Direwolf lunged, stopping just short of the throat. The brown Direwolf rolled over and whined in submission, flashing the light fur on his belly; the most vulnerable spot on a wolf, and the signal for surrender.
Winter's father backed away, tail raised high and ears pressed forward in aggression. He snarled triumphantly as the loser rose, tail tucked between his legs. The huge white Direwolf was the new alpha of both packs.
The brown Direwolf growled and backed away, head held low. Winter counted half a dozen slashes on his brown coat but not a single one on his father. The huge white alpha tossed his head back and howled triumphantly, his pack joining in. The newly annexed wolves crept over timidly, still unsure of their social standings. Winter's father had simply tossed his head and stalked away, leaving the startled newcomers to figure it out for themselves.
Things eventually calmed down again after the excitement of the move north and the assimilation of the new Direwolves. Most of them were thrust to the bottom of the hierarchy, just slightly above the omegas. Winter was surprised to find the overthrown alpha climb higher than himself. The brown Direwolf turned out to have great respect for his superior, and worked hard to earn the alpha's trust. Winter was amazed to find him become one of his father's most loyal followers. After the battle, nobody questioned the white Direwolf's supremacy again, the conquered alpha least of all.
Winter spent the following weeks adapting to his new life in the north. One of the most noticeable differences was the change in prey. The large Wooly Rhinoceros was more common here, where its thick fur was better adapted to withstand the freezing temperatures. Similarly, there were greater amounts of Direbears, although none quite so large or fierce as the first. Winter had never seen a Mammoth before, and was shocked after his first encounter with one of the hairy mountains. He was a quick learner however, and soon the white Direwolf was hunting with the best of them.
The pack needed to hunt less often, for whenever they made a kill it would last much longer. Larger prey meant more meat, and the cold was often enough to keep a meal fresh for days. Winter recalled the time his pack had taken down a lumbering Mammoth. The massive corpse had fed the Direwolves for nearly a fortnight.
Winter adjusted quickly to his new life. If anything, it was a refreshing reprieve from the south. The snow was softer and the wind was cooler. Winter could spend hours rolling in the frosty white, forgetting the troubles of his life. Forgetting the grief he had suffered in the south.
Unfortunately, life had a few more bitter twists for the young Direwolf. Harsh lessons that he would never truly recover from, scarring memories that would haunt him until his dying breath. It had all started on a starry night, just like any other.
There had been a strange stench in the air. A foul odour that soured his nose, musky, damp and. . . evil. It was the scent of a Direwolf, but one that Winter had never seen before in his life. He was dark, darker than his quiet sister. Darker than the night sky, darker than the deepest shadow in the bowels of the world. Darker than death.
The strange black Direwolf had appeared without warning, heralded only by the faint musky scent carried by the wind. It was already too late by the time the pack had noticed a stranger in their midst. Snarling Direwolves had cornered the intruder, backing him against a cliff. The stranger had gone willingly, not even fighting back when a wolf tore at his flank. It was only when Winter's father showed up that the intruder had shown any interest.
Flanked by two of his largest Direwolves, the great white alpha had made an impressive sight as he clambered onto a boulder to see what the commotion was about. The stranger was unfazed by the display, and only snarled defiantly. Winter's father leapt from his high vantage point, landing nearly face to face with the intruder. To his credit, the black Direwolf hadn't even flinched away.
Facing each other at such a close proximity, Winter could tell his father was much larger than the newcomer. That wasn't to say the other Direwolf was small. He stood nearly as tall as the grey beta, around twice Winter's height at the time. Direwolves had growled at the intruder, cautioning him to back away. The black Direwolf ignored the warning, his eyes locked on Winter's father. The white alpha bared his teeth and lashed his tail, demanding an explanation for the intrusion. In response, the strange wolf snapped his jaws and growled, low and deep, provoking the alpha into a fight. Winter's father tossed his head and snarled, confidently accepting the challenge.
A crowd gathered rapidly as the two Direwolves circled. They feinted snaps and lunges, trying to prompt the other into a reckless charge. Winter's father suddenly rushed in, trying to end the fight as abruptly as it had begun. The other Direwolf leapt away as the alpha lunged, jaws closing on thin air. Winter's father corrected himself and pounced again, claws outstretched. He grazed the challenger's coat, leaving a bright red trickle of blood in his wake. The injured wolf snarled in fury, whirling to snap at his assailant.
Instead of evading the attack, Winter's father rushed into it. The white Direwolf slammed into the black with a heavy thud, throwing them both onto the frozen ground. Winter's father was up first. He dove in for the neck, jaws lashing with a savage fury. The dark wolf retreated, just narrowly avoiding the injury. The white alpha pursued relentlessly, claws and teeth gleaming as he drove the intruder away.
The black wolf lunged suddenly, catching Winter's father off guard. The two Direwolves reared up and grappled in the air. With a harsh shove, the larger wolf sent the smaller one flailing. Winter's father lashed out again, all his strength behind the swipe. His sharp claws dug into the black fur, staining it with crimson blood. The wounded Direwolf turned and bounded up a slope, his blood leaving a glistening red trail. The pack howled in delight as the alpha gave chase, long legs flying as he dashed after the fleeing wolf. The spectators followed, not wanting to miss out on the action.
They pulled to a stop on a flat cliff-top, jagged rocks haphazardly scattered around the clearing. The wounded Direwolf growled and slowly backed away, Winter's father matching him step for step. The alpha lunged with a snarl, claws gleaming under the silver glow of the moon. Winter's father rained down blow after blow, backing the dark wolf against a boulder. Just when the battle seemed over, the black Direwolf dashed under a heavy swipe and charged toward the edge of the cliff. Straight for Winter's sister.
The brave grey Direwolf had circled around to get a better view of the fight. Unfortunately, this time the risk had blown up in her face. The black Direwolf rammed into his sister hard, sending the startled wolf over the side of the cliff. Winter howled, half in fury and half in surprise. Luckily, the falling Direwolf's startled cry was followed by a loud splash. They had all forgotten about the river, of which the cliff overlooked. Winter and the other wolves rushed to the cliffside, faces peering down anxiously. Every Direwolf except for the injured intruder, who took the opportunity to rest against a boulder.
Winter quickly spotted his brave grey sister splash ashore dripping wet. His relief was almost immediately replaced by a tight coil of dread. A huge Daeodon was shuffling around the frozen bank, snout pressed into the mud as it searched for food. Its head immediately whipped up, gleaming black eyes locked onto the young Direwolf.
Fully grown, one of the carnivorous boars was slightly taller and much wider than an adult Direwolf. This beast was clearly an exception. It loomed over Winter's sister, thick flanks heaving as it eyed a potential meal. The Daeodon gave a harsh squeal and charged, heavy hooves digging into the riverbank. Its long tusks gleamed in the moonlight.
Winter's father snarled in fury. He bounded straight off the cliff, landing on a rough boulder halfway down. The great white Direwolf descended to the riverbank swiftly and carelessly, kicking up a spray of loose pebbles. Winter's father landed on his foreleg with an awkward crunch. The huge Direwolf wasted no time and immediately limped to his daughter, snarling in pain with every step.
The large boar snorted as the white alpha placed himself in front of its meal. Winter's father growled in warning, giving the beast a chance to flee. The Daeodon stubbornly pawed at the ground and snorted. It charged with a bloodthirsty squeal, silver tusks gleaming as it kicked up clumps of frozen mud. The alpha snarled and rushed to meet the attacker.
Winter's father twisted away from the deadly tusks at the last second, skidding to the side and diving in again. His powerful jaws closed around the boar's thick leathery flank. The Daeodon squealed and lashed out with its heavy head, knocking the Direwolf away. It charged after the disoriented alpha, who barely had time to regain his stance. The huge boar rammed into the white Direwolf, tusks digging into fur and flesh. Winter's father tried to bound away, only to find out he was unable to escape the Daeodon's tusks. They were lodged deep, binding the Direwolf against the massive boar.
The Daeodon quickly noticed the Direwolf's vain struggle and used the hinderance to its advantage. The boar tossed its head and charged at the cliff wall, Winter's father still helplessly pinned by its tusks. The white alpha slammed into the cliff-side with a heavy crunch, growling in pain from the collision. Luckily, the impact jolted the Direwolf free, and Winter's father eased off the bloody tusks with an encumbered snarl. The alpha's shoulder was twisted at a grotesque angle, and blood spurted from the two puncture wounds in his side.
Winter's father struggled to his feet, growling as he rose. The alpha staggered and nearly went down, but caught himself in time and stumbled into the cliff. He snarled at the approaching Daeodon, blood-stained fur bristling with aggression. The boar charged, but the wounded alpha leapt away in time and narrowly avoided getting skewered again. The Daeodon crashed into the cliff with a heavy crack, dislodging a loose spray of stone. Yet despite the heavy impact, the giant boar seemed unfazed. It whirled with a grunt and charged again, gleaming yellow eyes locked on Winter's father.
The white Direwolf leapt on the beast's back, sharp claws digging into the thick hide. The Daeodon shook desperately, trying to dislodge the unwanted passenger. It careened into a boulder, but the Direwolf bounded off in time. The giant boar stumbled away from the sharp rock, a few thin trickles of blood running down its underbelly. Winter's father circled around and noticed the wound. He immediately darted in and tore at the vulnerable spot, jaws ripping off a chunk of flesh. The Daeodon squealed in pain and reeled away, blood spurting from the open wound.
Only scrapes and cuts adorned the boar's thick upper hide, but its lower portion seemed to be more lightly armoured. The great white alpha was quick to notice, and relentlessly targeted the Daedon's soft underside. Winter barked in delight as the huge boar staggered away, bloody flesh dangling from its torn belly. The Daeodon turned and tried to escape, only for the white Direwolf to cut off its retreat with a menacing growl. Winter's father darted under its vulnerable belly, closed his jaws around the bloody flesh, and tore clean through with a vicious wrench of his head.
Bloody intestines spilled from the gash as the boar stumbled away, flanks heaving desperately. It gave one last piercing squeal before toppling over with a heavy thump. The body shook twice before going completely limp. The white alpha turned to inspect his startled daughter. He barely got a step before being bowled over by a lean dark shape. The challenger had returned.
The black Direwolf took the alpha by surprise, snapping and clawing with a savage fury before the stunned wolf could react. Winter's father quickly regained his senses and tried to fight back, but was slowed down by his injuries. The white Direwolf caved in under the ferocious assault, slowly giving up ground as he tried to retaliate.
With a sudden burst of energy, Winter's father tackled the smaller Direwolf. They rolled on the ground, snapping and lashing; a whirlwind of black and white. The alpha tired quickly, his attacks coming slower and less often. The black Direwolf only seemed to grow bolder by the second, each snap or slash coming faster than the last.
The tumbling mass of fur and teeth rolled to a stop, the black Direwolf on top. Winter's father was panting heavily, bleeding from countless wounds with his broken paw dangled limp in the air. He struggled for a moment, straining to rise from the blood-soaked riverbank. For an instant, the white Direwolf looked as if he were ready to finish the battle. And then he collapsed in a bloody heap.
Winter's father managed to roll onto his back, exposing his vulnerable underbelly to the vicious dark wolf. The signal of defeat. He had lost his position as alpha male, now a title that the black Direwolf held. It would mean a life of shame and dishonour for his father. Either complete exile from the pack, or a position at the very bottom of the new hierarchy. Both were horrible options, but still better than the third. Winter let out a growl of relief. His father would live.
By pack customs, the fight was over at the death or surrender of a combatant. The winner would rule as alpha, but the loser. . . at least his father would live. Life meant a chance to recover, to grow strong again, and maybe even retake the pack. Until then, Winter would do all that he could to help. He was nearly nine months old now, almost a Direwolf grown. He would have left the pack soon anyways, but now he could join his father in his exile. This new alpha meant less than nothing to him. Winter wouldn't stay and follow this coward, who had used trickery and deceit to win. He would stay loyal to the one true alpha, his father. They would find a new pack to conquer, Winter promised himself. In time they might even reclaim this one.
The plans were set. Winter bounded down the slope, delighted that he had already figured something out. Many of the spectators followed him down to the river, curious to meet the new alpha. Or perhaps eager to please the black Direwolf and earn a favourable position in the new hierarchy. Winter didn't care either way. He was already recalling the nearest Direwolf packs, the safest routes and nearby shelters
His paws sank into the crimson mud of the riverbank, thawed by all the blood that had been shed earlier. Winter quickly spotted the two battle-worn Direwolves, still in the same position he had seen from the top of the cliff. The new black alpha stood triumphantly, a paw firmly planted on his father's chest as he savoured the victory. Winter could tell his father was in pain, but the white Direwolf masked it well, afraid to incur the wrath of the victor.
The new alpha only moved when the crowd had finally assembled, turning to gaze at each Direwolf in turn. He locked eyes with Winter, those ferocious amber orbs piercing into his soul. The black Direwolf snarled in delight as his jaws closed around the defeated alpha's throat. The monstrous wolf wrenched his head back sharply, taking a chunk of flesh and fur in a spray of bright red blood. Winter's father barely had time to register what happened before a torrent of blood gushed out in vicious spurts, soaking into the already stained riverbank.
There was a moment of stunned silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Winter suddenly realized what had just happened, and leapt with a deadly snarl. The amused black Direwolf easily slammed him away, teeth bared in a delighted growl as he savoured the moment. Winter was seething with rage, his vision turning red as the violent fury took control. He was about to rush the black Direwolf again when his grey sister suddenly blocked him off. She pushed him back when he tried to go around, and soon his brother and other sister were there as well, holding him away from the killer.
Winter snarled in rage, warning them to back off. His normally fearless grey sister growled ruefully, almost timidly, and inclined her head toward their dying father, then back to the amused alpha. The message was clear. Winter couldn't win.
The large black Direwolf was nearly twice his size, despite Winter being nearly ready to leave the pack and strike off on his own. He had used trickery and deceit to win, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again. Though Winter was already a talented hunter, he only had experience against foes that wouldn't fight back. The young Direwolf had never actually fought against another of his own kind, and would surely perish if he chose to start now. His siblings were right. He couldn't win.
Winter backed away reluctantly, tail tucked between his legs. The growing tension eased palpably as the large black alpha snarled triumphantly. He bounded onto a rock and glowered down at the assembled pack expectantly. For an instant, none of the Direwolves moved. Then the skinny grey omega scampered before him, scraping down low. He bit the new alpha under the chin and sank to the floor in silent obedience, awaiting a new order. The black alpha was clearly pleased. He raised his head and growled for the malnourished grey Direwolf to rise.
The omega followed the command eagerly, bounding to the large Direwolf's side. The alpha inclined his head in approval and nodded for the grey Direwolf to sit down. The omega took a spot by the new alpha's side, clearly pleased with himself for the clever thinking. Winter immediately decided that he hated the cowardly grey Direwolf, who would grovel to this stranger before his father's blood was even cold. He studied the rest of the pack sullenly, wondering who would betray his father next.
They were reluctant and perhaps a bit scared, but the other Direwolves quickly approached after witnessing the omega's actions. They each groveled before the new alpha, scraping the ground with their ears tucked in and tails between their legs. With an insistent snarl from the black Direwolf, each of his new subjects would repeat the gesture for the omega, who watched with a smug gleam in his eyes. The old omega had become the new beta.
Many of the Direwolves approached angrily, humiliated at having to appease to a wolf who had been their inferior only moments before. Yet the omega's sudden jump in position inspired many wolves to try the same. Each grovelled lower than the last, vying for a higher standing than when Winter's father had ruled. A stream of Direwolves went before the new alpha until only a few were left standing defiantly.
Winter hadn't budged since backing down, and now stood with his head raised high. To his delight, none of his siblings had joined the new alpha either. Winter's mother loomed behind them protectively, lashing her tail furiously as she eyed the dead alpha's corpse. The former beta remained as well, growling angrily as he regarded the smug black alpha and his newly appointed beta.
The black Direwolf glanced at them with a lazy flick of his head. He snapped at his new pack to gain their attention and bounded off the rock. Direwolves closed in on all sides, forming a deadly wall of claws and teeth behind their new alpha. The black Direwolf snarled confidently and stalked forward, his cowardly grey beta following close behind. Winter slowly backed away, snarling as he prepared to leap. The other Direwolves on his side followed suit, tensing in preparation for whatever the new alpha might do.
The black Direwolf stopped in the middle of the clearing, just a few paces from Winter's brother. With a sudden burst of speed, the alpha pounced with his claws outstretched. He landed on the young Direwolf with a fierce snarl, jaws snapping at the smaller wolf's throat. The effect was immediate and disastrous. It was like a trigger had been pulled, throwing all the Direwolves into the fray.
The traitorous wolf pack closed in on Winter and the loyalists, biting, slashing and snapping as they recklessly followed their new alpha into battle. Winter was absolutely furious, enraged at the traitors who had been his friends only moments before. He barely had time to register the sudden explosion of fur and teeth, but some of his allies were better prepared. The former grey beta bounded into the new alpha, snarling as he tore the black Direwolf away from Winter's brother. The two rolled on the ground, dirt and blood staining their fur.
Winter's brother was assailed from all sides. The poor Direwolf was closest to the treasonous pack, and presented the easiest target for their wrath. There was a sickening crunch as one particularly heavy Direwolf landed on his brother's leg. The young Direwolf howled in pain as he was thrown under the wave of wolves. Winter rushed in to help, but the former beta got there first.
The grey Direwolf bowled into the traitors with brutal ferocity, throwing them off the wounded wolf. They leapt away with startled growls, eyeing the newcomer warily. The former beta placed himself in front of Winter's injured brother protectively, snarling as the attackers closed in. He drew himself up to his full height and barked with such authority that many of the traitorous Direwolves instinctively backed away. The former beta took the opportunity to turn and snarl at Winter and his siblings, tossing his head at an opening behind them.
The young Direwolves made haste and darted away before any of their attackers could close the gap. Even their mother followed, crashing through wolves as she pursued her children. The former grey beta finally seemed to relax, even as Direwolves slowly closed in on all sides. His gaze was fixed on Winter and his siblings as he gave another vicious bark, warning the young Direwolves to flee. The former beta shot them one last meaningful look before turning to face his assailants, teeth bared in a snarl.
The traitorous wolves darted in from every angle, slashing and snapping as Winter and his family escaped. The tall grey Direwolf went down in a wave of fur and teeth, struggling even as the other wolves drove him into the blood-stained ground. Winter only realized they had just left the wolf to die by the time they were well on their way.
Pained snarls echoed behind the family as they fled. Winter and his brave grey sister supported their wounded brother, who was limping heavily from his broken leg. Their mother led the way, frantically sniffing out a safe trail for them to escape. Winter couldn't hear any more fighting now, only victorious howls that grew closer by the second. The grey beta was dead.
Winter was wrapped by a tight coil of dread as he heard the pack rapidly closing in. Paws pounded the rocky ground, stirring up a trail of dirt and dead leaves. Misty breaths warmed the air, while exhilarated snarls bounced off the cliff walls. He glanced ahead to see steep rocky walls closing in on either side. Winter's mother had just led them into a canyon.
The fleeing Direwolves were quickly funneled in until there was barely enough room to pad side by side. Winter dropped back while his grey sister stayed supporting their brother, her smaller frame better suited for the job. Winter brought up the rear, frantically glancing over his shoulder to watch for approaching enemies. For a while there was nothing.
The weary family pulled to a stop by a rough slope, caused by a recent rockslide. Boulders jutted out all along the path, forming a natural obstacle course that they would have to navigate. Worse still, deep crevices and unstable ground would turn a misplaced step into a slow and agonizing death. But there was no other way. The canyon ended abruptly just up ahead.
His quiet sister went first, creeping up the slope like a shadow. She reached the top without incident, so Winter carefully mimicked her steps. His paw got caught between two rocks halfway up, but a delicate tug was all it took to free himself. Winter heard insistent barking just as his feet touched down at the top of the cliff. He turned in time to see a trio of Direwolves pull into the canyon, snarling viciously as they eyed the escapees.
Winter's mother met the challenge with a snarl of her own as she stepped forward to block their advance. The alpha female turned to give Winter's grey sister a reassuring growl. The young Direwolf had turned back to help, but now listened to their mother and retreated. Winter's brother was nearly up the slope, limping as he struggled to the top. His brave grey sister bounded up to help, frantically pushing the wounded Direwolf forward.
Winter turned his attention back to the approaching traitors. They tried to fan out, but found the maneuver nearly impossible because of the close-pressed canyon walls. Winter's mother had cleverly chosen a location to escape. The frustrated wolves growled as they were forced to approach in single file. Winter knew that most Direwolves weren't used to single combat. Survival meant cooperation and hunting as a pack. When it came to one on one combat, the larger Direwolf usually won.
Winter's mother was certainly larger than the trio who approached now. They were clearly the fastest Direwolves of the pack, but speed came at the price of size. The first wolf approached ferociously, only to get rammed into the cliffside. Winter's mother drove in and tore out his throat with a clean wrench of her head. The next attacker approached more timidly, waiting for his mother to make the first move. The alpha female eagerly complied, and leapt onto the scrawny wolf with a fierce snarl.
Her claws dug into fur, leaving bright trails of red across the Direwolf's dark grey coat. He snarled in pain and backed away, snapping desperately to defend himself. Winter's mother evaded most of the attacks easily, but the scrawny wolf eventually got lucky. Jaws closed around the alpha female's shoulder, sharp teeth digging into fur and flesh. Winter's mother howled in pain and stumbled back, a steady trickle of blood spurting from her shoulder. Emboldened by the wound, the two remaining Direwolves darted in again.
The alpha female was slower this time, and took more blows than she gave. Winter saw another pair of Direwolves bound into view, notice the fight, and charge to help their traitorous comrades. Winter's mother was slowly losing ground to the rapidly advancing wave of wolves. The enemies would switch in and out, retreating only to allow a fresh assailant through. The alpha female was slowly being overwhelmed.
Winter's siblings had finally reached the top of the canyon. His brother limped over the side and promptly collapsed, panting heavily from the exertion. Winter's grey sister appeared a moment later, growling as she surveyed the battle below. Their mother had been forced to the end of the canyon, snarling as the insistent attackers pressed in. She was bleeding from a dozen gashes, although her attackers didn't fare any better. Another had already perished at her claws, his limp body heaped against the canyon wall.
Winter's head snapped toward the opposite end as yet another group of Direwolves bounded into view, the black alpha in the lead. He spotted the silver Direwolf and snarled. Winter was immediately enraged by the sight of his father's killer. He rushed toward the slope, only for his siblings to block the way. Their mother turned and snapped at them, ordering the young wolves to flee. Winter refused to let the foul black wolf kill his mother. He growled and tried to push his siblings away, just as his mother charged. The new alpha snarled eagerly as he bounded forward to meet her, claws gleaming under the moonlight. Direwolves leapt out of the way as the two combatants hurled at one another.
They met in the centre, snapping and snarling as they clashed. Blood and spittle flew everywhere as the two Direwolves traded blows, watering the dry canyon floor with gleaming red liquid. Winter's mother fought desperately, but the weary Direwolf could only resist for so long. The larger black wolf attacked relentlessly, hammering down blow after blow as he drove Winter's mother back. She crouched near the end of the canyon, ready for a final stand.
Winter struggled feverishly, whining, yapping, begging his siblings to let him go down and help. They resisted stubbornly, forcing him farther and farther away from the edge. The white Direwolf howled in frustration as the black alpha charged. His mother leapt in time to meet the huge wolf, colliding against the alpha mid-air.
Winter's mother went sailing into the rocky cliff with a heavy crack. She sank to the floor, breaths coming in ragged bursts. The black alpha snarled as he leapt, claws sinking into flesh. He dragged them along the silver Direwolf's coat, opening up fresh rivers of red. Winter's mother snarled as she threw her attacker off and struggled to her feet. The black Direwolf came charging again, sliding under a swipe and ramming into his target. The two combatants rolled on the blood-stained canyon floor, kicking up a cloud of dust as they struggled.
The alpha shoved Winter's mother away with a snarl. She sprawled on the ground, heaving from her wounds as she struggled to rise. The black alpha stalked over triumphantly and planted a paw on her chest. Winter's mother snapped at his face, but came up short because of her awkward position. All the fight seemed to go out of her at once. Instead of struggling, the silver Direwolf turned her head toward Winter and his siblings, who were still spectating from above. She managed a weak growl and threw her head, ordering the wolves to leave. Then there was no more time for final instructions. The black alpha loomed over, and with a delighted growl, he tore into the silver Direwolf's underside.
Winter's mother gave one last pained snarl before choking on her own blood. The sickly red liquid gushed out, drenching her once-clean silver coat. The black alpha threw back his head and howled in victory. Winter felt sick. He threw himself at the edge with a harsh snarl, but was repelled by his siblings. They snapped at him desperately, trying to force him away. Winter tried to get past a second time, but was met by the same results as before. He snapped at them with a sullen growl, and reluctantly allowed himself to be shepherded away from the edge.
Winter's quiet sister growled so softly that he had to crane his neck to hear. She gave a silent nod at the rocky slope, where enemy Direwolves were now clambering up. Winter's grey sister snarled in alarm and bounded up ahead, turning around to bark at her siblings. They followed as best they could, although the young Direwolves were slowed down by Winter's brother. He was limping heavily, snarling in pain with every step that jolted his broken limb. The other Direwolves stayed with their wounded brother, pressing up close so he could lean on them for support.
The young wolves fled toward the horizon, where the bright orange sun was slowly rising. It cast a golden glow on the Direwolves, trailing long shadows behind them as they retreated. Winter and his siblings didn't care where they ended up, so long as they were far from the pack, far from danger and death. Lazy hills rolled ahead, forming a line of snowy lumps across the horizon. The white plains were interspersed with the occasional tree or boulder, a splash of colour against an otherwise bleak world.
Winter snarled urgently as they hobbled along. He could sense their pursuers growing closer by the second, their barks and growls following them like a horde of angry ghosts. The white Direwolf shivered when he thought about what would happen if they were caught, and urged his siblings onward with another desperate snarl. It wasn't enough.
Their enemies put on a fresh burst of speed when Winter and his siblings were within sight. There were perhaps seven or eight, low-ranking Direwolves for the most part, although the black alpha ran at their head. The new beta loped at his side, snarling as he relished his newfound power. Winter growled in anger as the hunters closed in. They were traitors, cowards and weaklings, every single one. At least one part of him was glad to see the absence of a few Direwolves. The ones that he had considered friends growing up; the old beta female, his dark older sister and the golden twins. At least they had the honour to let them escape.
Unlike this band of filthy dogs. The traitorous Direwolves quickly enveloped the weary band. Winter and his siblings tensed up as they were surrounded, ready for a final stand. The large black alpha pushed through the living wall, his teeth bared in a triumphant snarl. For an instant, no one moved.
Then the alpha lunged at Winter's brother, sharp teeth gleaming in the light of dawn. The two Direwolves rolled, snapping at one another as they tumbled. Winter's grey sister moved to help their brother, but was tackled away by three snarling Direwolves before she could reach their wounded sibling. Four more Direwolves circled around Winter and his quiet sister, forcing them against a snowbank. One lunged suddenly, claws outstretched for his sister.
Winter rammed the Direwolf away, hard. He placed himself in front of his sister protectively, snarling as the other wolves closed in. One lunged from the side and tore into his leg. Pain lanced through Winter's body as he stumbled back, snapping to hold his attackers off. Another circled and lunged from the side, but Winter was ready this time. He clamped his jaws shut on the wolf's shoulder, causing the beast to howl in pain. Before she could escape, Winter's claws flashed upward and then the wolf was staggering away, blood spurting from her throat.
A second Direwolf landed on Winter while he was distracted, sending him sprawling on the snow. The white Direwolf tried struggling to his feet, but was pinned under the heavy assailant. There was a sudden black blur, and then he was free. Winter saw his sister land on the heavy Direwolf, snapping at his face while he stumbled around blindly. Winter was about to rush over and help when two more wolves blocked his path.
Winter rushed the first one, jaw gaping wide. His teeth sank into flesh, and he wrenched his head back, sending up a bright spray of blood. The wounded wolf tackled him with a snarl, and the two Direwolves rolled in the snow. Winter ended up on top, but was quickly rammed away by the Direwolf's companion. Winter faced the new assailant, only for powerful jaws to close around his shoulder.
The white Direwolf stumbled away, blood spurting from his many wounds. In that brief moment Winter saw the alpha snap his brother's neck with a savage wrench of his head. Winter howled in fury and shook off his attackers, lunging for the huge black Direwolf.
The alpha turned around, swerved out of the way, and dashed Winter against a boulder in one fluid motion. The white Direwolf stumbled to his feet, fighting the urge to rest against the stone at his back. He turned to face the huge black Direwolf, only for the cowardly grey beta to ram him into the snow. Winter tasted blood. His own, the young Direwolf realized with an angry growl. He whirled and snapped at the cowardly grey wolf, trying to end his worthless life. The former omega twisted away at the last instant, and Winter was slammed back against the boulder by the black alpha.
He saw his grey sister going down in a sea of wolves, blood spurting from countless wounds as the traitorous monsters tore at her every side. His quiet black sister was nowhere to be seen, dead, Winter presumed with a hollow snarl. He staggered to his feet, a growl of pure grief and fury building at the back of his throat. Getting away didn't matter anymore. His father, his mother, his brother and sisters. They were all dead. His entire family was gone forever. . . and only one wolf was responsible. Life didn't matter to Winter anymore. He only cared for one thing now. Vengeance.
He would make the monstrous black Direwolf pay for the lives he had taken and the family he had shattered. Winter pounced at the smug black alpha with a thunderous snarl, his vision tinged with red. The beta slammed him out of the way, but Winter had been half-expecting the cowardly grey wolf.
He turned with a vicious snarl and sent the traitorous wolf sprawling. Winter was on him a moment later, bearing down with all his grief and rage. He snapped, once, twice. The grey wolf twisted away for the first, but Winter caught his ear with the second bite. The white Direwolf wrenched his head back ferociously, taking off the appendage with a spray of blood. The grey beta snarled in pain, but Winter was already on him again, aiming at his throat this time. Before he could end the traitor's life, Winter was thrown off the cowardly wolf by some unseen force.
The white Direwolf snarled and whipped his head up to see who would stand between him and his vengeance. He was surprised to see the black alpha staggering around, a lump of black fur on his back, snapping and snarling as it went for his eyes. To his vast amazement, Winter saw his quiet sister attacking the huge alpha. His sister was alive!
His only sister, Winter reflected with a sullen growl. His entire family was dead, save for this one last sibling. And he wouldn't let them take her away too. Winter launched himself at the black alpha and rammed the monstrous wolf into a snowbank, head-first. His sister leapt off the black Direwolf's back and darted to his side. She growled and nudged him urgently as the traitorous wolf pack closed in. Winter whirled around and loped away, his sister a dark shadow by his side.
The two young Direwolves took advantage of the momentary chaos by making a wild dash for the safety of the distant treeline. They darted past two startled wolves and swerved around a snow bank, loping through the white field toward the distant trees. They would stand a chance, however small, of losing their pursuers in the forest. The thought of freedom spurred Winter onward, giving him wings as he bounded away. His sister raced alongside him, pitch black against the bleak white field. Then she swerved off to the right.
Winter barked at her to return, demanding the silent black Direwolf to come back. She snarled back forcefully, louder than any tone he had ever heard the quiet wolf use. Winter was confused, but perhaps this was part of his sister's plan. After all, she had always been the most observant of the litter, and the smartest too. Winter's sister bounded further and further away, kicking up a cloud of powdery white snow. Winter kept going for the trees, as they had originally planned. He could only hope his sister's plan would work, and they would both safely escape.
The Direwolf pack slowed down when they saw Winter's sister split off. There was a brief moment of hesitation before the pack turned after the quiet black Direwolf. Winter's sister kept going in her direction, but the weary black Direwolf was eventually overtaken. The fastest wolves caught up within a couple dozen strides, and tore at his sister's flanks to slow her down. Winter was too far away to do anything but watch helplessly. They circled around the young Direwolf, snapping and slashing from all sides. She fought valiantly, but was quickly overwhelmed by the vicious group.
Winter's sister sank to the ground, her blood staining the snow a bright crimson red. The assembled Direwolves parted to make way for their alpha, who stalked over with long and confident strides. He regarded the defeated wolf nonchalantly, looming over Winter's sister like a bird of prey.
Winter could only watch with sheer horror as the black Direwolf murdered his last remaining family member. The savage monster tore into her underside, ripping off chunks of flesh and fur with a spray of blood. Winter's sister managed to lift her head with a weak growl and shoot a meaningful look far to his right. Even in his trance-like state, the white Direwolf still managed to turn with a snarl, looking for the enemy his sister had just warned him of. Only there was nothing to his right. Just pure, endless snow.
Had the look been meant for him? Winter supposed so, for there was no one else to receive it. But it had been directed nowhere close to him, unless . . . The white Direwolf snarled in fury at the deceit. His sister hadn't seen him because he was nearly invisible against the snow. And she had known that perfectly well.
Winter cursed himself for not having realized sooner. How naive he had been, to think his sister had come up with some elaborate plan! No, Winter realized with a sullen snarl. Her plan had been to sacrifice herself, to give her life for his. Winter lashed his tail in fury, in grief, maybe both. He was angry. He was afraid. But mostly, he was just lonely. It should have been him!
Winter's sister had known that he would be nearly undetectable against the bleak white landscape. Her dark black fur was the polar opposite; a bright flag against the stark white, a target that was impossible to miss. She had known that the pack would go after her, giving Winter the perfect opportunity to escape.
The white Direwolf wanted nothing more than to turn back and kill every single one of the traitorous wolves, but he knew that it was pointless. Winter wouldn't stand a chance against seven fully grown Direwolves, even if he did take them by surprise. He snarled in frustration as the wolves backed away from the corpse, their heads swiveling as they tried to find him amidst the snow. The Direwolves fanned out and began to search, sniffing the air as they tried to pick up his scent.
Winter hesitated as they approached, debating his next course of action. He could lie in wait amidst the snow and ambush the alpha when he came near. Winter lashed his tail in frustration. There were so many flaws to that plan it would be a miracle if it actually worked. Running was always an option, but that was the exact opposite of what Winter wanted.
He wanted vengeance. He wanted death to the traitors. But most of all, he wanted his family back . . . Winter wondered what his dead loved ones would have wanted. For him to run, the white Direwolf supposed. They had died so he could live. They had given their lives to buy him time; the grey beta, back at the northern home; his mother at the canyon; his siblings back at the snowy hills, and his quiet sister just now. Winter realized that they would have died for nothing if the Direwolves caught him now.
That last thought made the decision for him. Winter would not let their deaths be in vain. He spun around and kicked up a cloud of snow, paws pounding the snowy field as he loped toward the distant trees. The sudden movement caught the pack's attention, but by then Winter was already well on his way. He wouldn't stop until he was safe. Winter ran, and ran, and ran…
The damp green forest was filled with a plethora of strange scents, many of them foreign to Winter's nose. He smelled dew and dirt, fruits and flowers, but also death and blood. The white Direwolf followed the smell cautiously, wary of any beast that might be guarding the kill. His stomach rumbled like a dying Daeodon, nearly loud enough to wake the entire jungle. Winter hadn't eaten in days. Not since the massacre of his family. The young Direwolf had fled for nearly four days straight, only stopping long enough to get a few hours of rest. But he never dared to stay for long.
Winter hadn't sensed any of his pursuers for a while now, but he could never be too careful. It had only been the day before when he had finally shaken them off his trail. Winter crossed two dangerous rivers that day, each swarming with a horde of thirsty beasts. Luckily they had been too preoccupied to notice the lone wolf, and he had passed with ease. Winter knew that an entire pack of Direwolves would have a much harder time going unnoticed, and hoped that it would be enough to stop his pursuers. He couldn't risk getting caught now. It would mean his death.
The pack had chased him well out of the north, the vicious wolves never too far behind. They were following his scent, the invisible trail that Winter couldn't hide. He had managed to get a good head start back in the snowy field thanks to his sister's sacrifice. He would have been long dead if it weren't for her. But Winter would still perish, and soon, if he didn't find any food.
The white Direwolf slipped under a low-hanging bush and scanned his surroundings. The smell was somewhere off to his right, much stronger than before. But there was something else as well. A few somethings in fact. Winter quickly spotted the creatures, short beasts that picked at a leathery grey mound. There were four in all, each one only a fraction of his size. The beasts were scaly and had colourful feathers sprouting from their heads. The largest only came up to Winter's leg. He had never seen these creatures before, but figured they were relatively harmless based on their diminutive statures.
Winter pounced with a snarl, jaws outstretched for the nearest beast. It shrieked in alarm and backed away, a chunk of meat dropping from its jaw. He snapped with a deep growl and the little scavengers all backed away. Winter rushed at the nearest one, who turned and fled into the jungle. Upon seeing this, its companions quickly followed.
Winter was relieved. He immediately turned on the corpse and tore into it with ferocious snarls. The meat tasted stale and sickly, but the Direwolf hadn't eaten in days so he didn't mind. All he cared about was food. He ripped off every morsel that still clung to the bones, salivating as he devoured the remains.
So this was his life now, Winter reflected with a bitter snarl. Slinking around like a common brigand and feasting on another beast's leftovers. The white Direwolf lashed his tail in frustration. He had a choice though. Winter could end it all; the pain and hunger, the guilt and loneliness, the stress and suffering. The ocean was only an hour's walk from here. Winter could simply dive in and let the waves carry his corpse away.
It would be easy as well. Perhaps not entirely painless, but a few minutes of suffering would be worth the effort, or so Winter thought. Yet a small part of his mind seemed to deny the easy way out. That part of him wanted to keep going on, to keep surviving. What was the point though? Winter's entire family was dead. All his friends had turned against him, and there wasn't a single being in the world that cared for him anymore. It would be much easier to simply leave everything behind.
No, he resolved with a new passion. Winter's own life wasn't his to throw away. It didn't even belong to him anymore, but rather the ones who had died for it; the Direwolves who had given their lives just so he could escape. It would dishonour their memory and sacrifice if he took the easy way out. Winter silently promised himself that he would live to fight another day. He wouldn't let himself die, not yet.
The white Direwolf growled as he backed away from the corpse. He circled it a few times to make sure nothing had been left behind, and bounded into the woods when it was clear. But where to now? Winter knew couldn't turn back for the north. There was the pack to worry about, and the lone wolf couldn't survive in the frigid wastes by himself. South? The redwoods might offer some degree of protection, but Winter had seen the beasts that called it home. There was no way that the young Direwolf could compete against ferocious Thylacoleo and packs of blood-thirsty Raptors.
That only left two options; east and west. Winter would have to pass through his former pack's territory in order to get to the west, and the traitorous Direwolves certainly wouldn't let him through with his life. Besides, Winter had rarely ventured west during his time with the pack. The young Direwolf had no idea what those lands would hold. No, the only real option was east.
Winter could follow the coast, sticking to the shade of the jungle to stay hidden. There would be more corpses to scavenge, and maybe even prey to take down. Winter would have to teach himself how to hunt alone if he wanted to survive in this foreign world. He had already spotted fat, clumsy beasts that would make for easy targets. Until then, the young wolf would have to adapt to the humid jungles that were so different from the lands of his birth. The transition would be difficult, but not impossible.
Winter stuck to the undergrowth as he padded away from the corpse. It would take him weeks, maybe even months to learn the ways of his new home. But he was ready. Winter would grow larger and stronger. Large enough to make the black alpha cower in fear, and strong enough to kill all those who had wronged his family. He would return north one day. Whether it was a year from now, or two, or even five. Winter would have his vengeance.
The strange creature lay sprawled on the beach, completely unmoving except for the shallow rise and fall of its chest. Winter observed in silence, hidden by the shade of a bush. He peeked at the strange beast through a gap between two leaves. Still nothing.
The white Direwolf had discovered the creature roughly an hour ago, while out hunting for Dodos. The fat clumsy birds had vacated this section of the beach long ago, evidently too unsettled by the presence of the foreign beast. It had a strange sweaty scent and a relatively smooth body, free of fur, feathers or scales. The beast, a he, Winter decided, did have one exception; a shaggy golden-brown mop of hair clinging to the top of his head.
Winter shifted uneasily and circled around to a slightly cooler patch of shade. The jungle was absolutely boiling. The white Direwolf had been expecting a much warmer climate, but never this hot. He was still getting used to the move, even after three months of living in the eastern jungle. He had already shed most of his snowy white coat to escape the worst of the heat. Yet Winter still found himself panting from daily exertions, sometimes even in the nights after a particularly warm day.
Apart from the abrupt shift in climate, Winter was adapting well to his new life. There was a much greater abundance of prey to be found in the tropics, whereas in the north he had only hunted a few select species. The prey was easier to catch as well. Winter would often feed on slow Dodo birds and ungainly Phiomia. To be sure, there were always corpses to be found, but Winter rarely scavenged anymore. It had been the Direwolf's primary source of food in his first few weeks, but those days were long behind him.
Winter had grown taller by a few heads since his exile from the north. At first, it had been all he could do to chase a few Compies away from a kill, but now the Direwolf could hold his ground against many more scavengers; Dilophosaurus, Pegomastax and such. Only the smallest carnivores lived nearby, and Winter was perfectly content staying in this area of the jungle.
He had seen a few other predators lurking in the bordering forests; a feathered Yutyrannus and its two Carnotaurus companions, a trio of vicious Terror Birds, and a large Pulmonoscorpius. Winter always made sure to stay clear of their territory, and they never bothered him either. There was plenty of prey to be found here, unlike in the north where food was scarce and the competition was brutal. Winter found that living alone was tolerable for the most part, but there were still times when he missed having a pack.
Sleeping alone had been unnerving for the first few nights, where every distant echo had sent Winter's fur standing on end. He still felt uncomfortable sleeping without a pair of eyes to watch over him, but the young Direwolf had more or less gotten accustomed to it. Hunting in the jungle was a much easier transition. Winter didn't need any help cornering swift prey or wearing down large beasts. It was usually just a matter of surprising the prey, which was sometimes hard for the Direwolf. His stark white coat stuck out unnaturally among the tropical greens, but this setback had helped Winter become much better at hiding.
In either case, his predicament had become an advantage. Winter was doing just fine on his own, yet he sometimes yearned for the safety of his old pack. He would reclaim it. One day, Winter had promised himself all those months ago. That day was closer than before, and still drawing closer by the hour. Winter would reclaim his father's pack, even if it was the last thing he did.
The white Direwolf was stirred from his thoughts by movement down the beach. The strange beast was moving. Winter immediately backed into the safety of the shadows, hidden by the undergrowth. The creature groaned and rolled over, pushing himself off the sand with an elbow. He gasped in pain a moment later, and collapsed back into the beach with a sharp intake of air.
The creature wheezed in the sand like a fish out of water, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. When his breathing finally steadied, the hairless beast pushed himself off the ground again. He struggled for a moment, arms trembling from the exertion. The strange creature pushed himself into a kneeling position, panting to catch his breath. The man stayed like that for a small eternity. He started leaning forward, just slightly, as if he were about to fall back into the sand.
With a sudden burst of energy, the hairless beast rose from the sand. Winter was surprised to find that he stood on two legs instead of four. It seemed like an extremely unstable position to the Direwolf, and sure enough the creature stumbled around, unsteady on his feet. His eyes locked on the jungle and he started forward, feet moving on their own while his eyes retained a glassy sheen.
Twice the creature nearly stumbled, and twice he managed to catch himself in time. The beast was nearly in the shade when his steps slowed. He lurched to the left, then right, staggering as he slumped forward. The strange creature promptly crashed into the sand, lying face-down as Winter had first found him.
The white Direwolf patiently waited for the hairless beast to rise. He didn't so much as shift a muscle, face still firmly glued to the beach. It was an hour later that Winter cautiously padded over, curiosity having gotten the better of him. The white Direwolf stopped a few paces short, watching the creature carefully. Now that he was closer, Winter could see that the beast was actually covered in hairs, albeit thin golden threads that were nearly invisible against his skin. The beast didn't stir, even when the young Direwolf nudged an arm with his snout.
But the creature's skin was burning hot. He would surely overheat if left in the sun, so Winter took a limb in his mouth and dragged the beast under the shade. The white Direwolf nearly waited another hour, watching the rise and fall of the creature's chest. Winter couldn't say what entranced him about this strange being, but he felt a certain . . . connection. Perhaps because the beast was an outcast, like himself, but the young Direwolf felt there was something more to it. Winter sniffed at his face. Nohing. He cautiously crept forward until he was nearly on top of the beast. The white Direwolf licked at his face, trying to prompt a response.
The creature's eyes flared open almost immediately, and he flinched away in alarm. The sudden movement caught Winter off guard, and he bared his teeth in a silent growl. The beast stared at him wide-eyed, frozen in place by fear. Winter stayed perfectly still as he observed the creature. Otto, something whispered from deep inside him. The beast's name was . . . Otto?
Otto, the part of his mind whispered again, more insistent this time. Winter abruptly leapt off his chest and bounded into the jungle, but the voice didn't go away. Otto . . . The world was suddenly spinning, disappearing from beneath his very paws. Otto . . . White tinged his vision, white like a fresh field of snow. White like his fur. Otto . . . The world was a blanket of white. And then he was falling, falling. . .
Otto. . .
"Otto!" Insistent hands gripped his shoulders, rocking him awake.
Otto Weiss blinked to life, sputtering as he sat up. The moon was a silver disk in a sea of stars, far up above them. He could make out the distinct outline of Willam looming above him.
"Otto," he gasped, relieved. "You were shaking in your sleep. Growling, even. I didn't know what to do."
Otto touched a hand to his forehead, feeling the slick sheen of sweat that covered his skin. Skin . . . not fur. What in the world?
"You did the right thing," he managed to croak. "I'm fine no-" Otto burst into a fit of ragged coughs, shoulders trembling as he clutched at his chest. Wrinkled hands pressed a leathery skin into his, and Otto tipped his head back immediately. The cool water trickled down his throat, and the coughs subsided.
Otto gasped for air as he pulled the waterskin away, completely emptied by his frantic struggle. He managed to nod his gratitude at Willam, although he doubted the other man could see it in the darkness.
"I'll refill it later," the old man promised.
"No need," Otto rasped. "I'm fine now. Truly." The other man looked unconvinced. "It was just a . . . dream. Go get some rest. I'll take the next wach"
Otto thought he saw a nod, though the gloom made it impossible to tell for sure. He could hear Willam shuffling away a moment later, then the soft rustle of grass as the other man settled down. Otto let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He pressed his back against the rough bark of a tree, and let his eyes adjust to the darkness.
Their entire band, or rather the remains of it, was arrayed around the small clearing. There was Willam, just across from him. The old man was curled up by his egg, cradling the massive orb as he tried to sleep. His right arm was wrapped in blue moss, from the very tips of his fingers all the way up to his elbow. Otto had seen the burn scars himself, something that the old man would be stuck with for the rest of his life. He was grateful that Willam been there all those nights ago. If it weren't for the old man, Otto and his companions would have perished at the jaws of those accursed Megalosaurus. He shivered at the thought, and shifted uncomfortably.
A bit farther to the right was Joseph, his chest rising and falling slowly. Otto could easily distinguish his ragged gasps in the night. Being slammed against a boulder had left Joseph with half a dozen broken bones, and probably damage to his internal organs. Yet the huge man tried not to show his pain. At least when he was awake. Otto could see how much his injuries hurt during the night. Joseph would grimace and shift uncomfortably, then flinch from the movement.
Only part of his pain was physical, Otto knew. They were still distraught at the loss of Hawk and Sarah, both of whom had been slain by the Megalosaurus pack. Otto knew how Hawk, who had been particularly close with Joseph, had perished defending her friend. The memory still haunted the large man, and he seemed to blame himself for the small Dilophosaurus' death.
Otto knew how Joseph felt. He suffered through the same guilt every single hour. It had been him that his friends looked to for decisions. And he had made the wrong one. Staying in their camp when they should have left. Otto had seen the signs, they all had, yet they stayed anyway. Because of him. Hawk and Sarah both paid for his mistake with their lives, and Winter. . . he might join them too. Winter. my oldest friend. And I still couldn't help you, not when it mattered.
Otto shuffled over to the huge Direwolf and lay a hand on his shaggy coat. He felt a pulse and sighed in relief. Whether it was stronger or weaker than the last time he had checked, Otto could not say. He had worried for Winter's life ever since he and Willam had pulled the great Direwolf out of their smoking base, his fur slick with blood. Otto hadn't been able to tell whether the wolf was even alive at first, and had only found out much later in the night. Winter's pulse had been so weak that Otto had barely felt it.
The Direwolf hadn't stirred from his coma since the attack. They were only able to keep him alive by trickling droplets of water into his open mouth. There wasn't any meat left, only the fruits they managed to forage from the jungle. Winter would eventually starve if they couldn't make any kills. Even if they did get the meat, Winter would starve if he didn't wake up. They very well couldn't force anything down his throat without suffocating the poor wolf. And there were always his injuries. Winter had nearly died defending Otto from the Megalosaurus alpha. They had treated his wounds with clean water and moss, but many of them would still be enough to end the white Direwolf's life.
Otto shuddered at the thought of his friend's death. He always made sure to stay near the Direwolf, for any moment might be his last. He and Willam, and Joseph later, had alternated dragging Winter and their supplies on the rickety wooden plank they had salvaged during the fire. They had fled for nearly two days straight, staying to the shadows of the jungle. A horde of beasts travelled along the coast, so many of them that the small band went relatively unnoticed.
They were fleeing the wildfire, Otto knew. He could only hope that the Megalosaurus pack was not among their numbers. He had see them fleeing east, farther into the jungle. Their broken group had turned the opposite way, fleeing west in the hopes that they could reach safety. Where that was, Otto couldn't say. He only knew that turning back meant death. Staying put meant death. Forward was the only option.
Otto glanced at Winter again, and gently ran a hand along his torn-up coat. What did the dream mean? It couldn't have been real. . . could it? It certainly hadn't felt like a dream. Rather, more like he had actually lived through Winter's life. But that was impossible. Otto must have been delirious, mad with grief over the devastating attack on their camp. And yet. . . nothing on this island should be impossible. After all, there were many unexplainable things, too many to be a coincidence. How could all these scaled beasts exist? How could all those crops grow in one season?
How could he have lived through Winter's life?
Otto was startled from his thoughts by a gentle growl, so soft that he barely heard it. He glanced down at Winter just in time to see a golden eye blink open. He's awake. Winter's awake! He'll live! Otto was overjoyed as he wrapped Winter in a tight embrace, warm tears trailing down his face. The Direwolf managed an affectionate growl, rough and hoarse. Otto pulled away and stared into Winter's golden eyes, so full of wisdom, so full of pain and loss.
"Your brother and sisters. . . Your father and mother. Everyone you loved," Otto blinked back tears as he regarded the great white Direwolf. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that you've suffered."
The Direwolf rubbed against him soothingly, and Otto took that as a sign that Winter understood. He gazed into the wolf's eyes and saw his own face, reflected back at him through those deep golden orbs.
Author's note:
Should I have split this chapter in two? Probably.
My fingers are dead. 20'363 words (including the Author's note). Jesus. This chapter makes up 33% of the current story on its own. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this change in style. I had fun writing this chapter (not editing it, that was a pain).
Unfortunately you won't be reading any more chapter that are (mainly) written from Winter's perspective. That isn't to say that Otto will never see through his eyes again. Interesting new stuff.
Anyways, thanks to everyone who left a review last chapter and the ones I have seen just now. Everyone who left a review on this chapter will just have to wait until the next one (even if I did see it), because I like to keep chronological author's notes. Sorry for the delay, but the next chapter will indeed be up much faster than this one. I'm aiming for this friday, but don't be surprised if it doesn't upload.
TheJaiganticBridge, thank you for the continued support and yes, your inferences are pretty much spot-on.
DevoutRelic, thank you for the kind compliment. And don't worry, your money is safe. We are definitely going to meet up with these Megalosaurus again, and it won't be pretty. As for the egg... you'll just have to find out!
Tall-Gothic-Guy, thank you for the continued support. There will definitely be a slight phase of depression, but these are tough survivors and they'll find a way through!
RedLightningD608, thank you for the continued support and yes, they definitely weren't smart about the way they were storing meat. The egg's a mystery, but who knows what it'll be? (well other than me). You'll just have to find out!
NightWyvern91792, thank you for the continued support and the praise to my skill as a writer!
Guest, thank you for the review. I agree, characters have to die sometimes otherwise the story gets boring, and fast.
Girlbook, thank you for the support and I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Winter's safe for now. Trust me, I hope so too. (otherwise I just typed 20k words for nothing)
DragonGirl345, thank you for the support and as for the egg, you'll just have to find out!
Thanks for taking the time to check out my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Special thanks to TheJaiganticBridge, who helped with a lot of the research for some of the northern animals (Direbears, Megaloceros). I will try my best to upload every Friday. Feel free to comment, ask question or criticize my story, review is always welcome. And if you like what you saw, make sure to check out the other ARK: Survival Evolved fanfictions out there. Have a great rest of your day or night.
-DaRumpyBurr
